


2015 CLAMP Secret Santa (KuroFai)

by surrealmeme



Category: CLAMP - Works, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: 2015 CLAMP Secret Santa, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Something about Kurogane and Fai dying, reincarnating, and meeting again. I prefer fluff or bittersweet than angst, but anything is welcomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2015 CLAMP Secret Santa (KuroFai)

 Primus

 

           “Yukito-san!” the princess of Clow cried.

           The white-haired priest, along with the country’s young king, rushed into the room. “Sakura-hime!,” “Sakura-chan!,” they said, respectively.

           The two quickly looked about the spacious room and Sakura, with puzzled expressions when finding nothing amiss but a deeply saddened face, which was credited to the absence of Syaoran. Touya looked rather irritated at this, which, in the back of her mind, Sakura linked to the boys’ mussed hair, crumpled robes, and flushed faces – the king’s chambers were very close to her own, no distance for anyone, especially that of Touya’s physical ability, to be winded by. Clearly, _something_ had been going on.

           Touya began to turn and leave the room, taking Yukito with him, but the latter shot him a look with wise grey eyes. Touya slightly sighed, and Yukito approached the young princess. He knelt down in front of her to meet her green eyes, speaking with a soft voice.

           “Sakura-hime – no, _Sakura-chan_. What’s wrong? Another dream?”

           Sakura nodded, and tears began to flow from her wide eyes.

           “It’s Kuro-Kurogane-san,” _hic_ , “and Fai,” _hic_ , “-san. They-they’re dead.”

           The girl cried, wetting the oversized cushion she sat on.

           Shock rippled through, first, Yukito’s face, then Touya’s as well. Neither of them had known the two well, but were infinitely grateful towards them for providing such protection and support for both Sakura and Syaoran; plus, they were incredibly powerful. Syaoran was now left on his own, and Yukito feared for his life was Syaoran to face what had killed both the mage and ninja; Sakura must also know this, and her tears were for all three of the travelers.

           Touya appeared at Sakura’s side, letting her lean on him. The tears stopped soon after that, not only because of the comfort provided by two of Sakura’s greatest protectors, but also due to her experiences while hunting for the feathers, a journey that returned her irrevocably changed.

           “Thank you. Yukito-san, could you please send me to Watanuki-san’s shop? I may not be able to prevent their deaths, but I may be able to alter them.”

           With a solemn nod, the priest exited the room for his staff, while the king sat with Sakura, knowing that it was all he could do. Upon Yukito’s return, he quietly left the room, with the knowledge that what he had done was enough.

 

Secondus

 

           The air began to swirl, howl, and coalesce with an otherworldly force, escalating until a rift opened up in the world itself, depositing one of a desert kingdom. The shopkeeper, anticipating such an event, stood waiting in the small, subtly yet outrageously strange yard.

           “Sakura-chan.”

           “Watanuki-san.”

           Sakura, as the dimensional portal sealed, walked towards Watanuki and followed him into the Japanese-styled building. He ushered her into his “receiving chamber,” shooing out the twin assistants, Maru and Moro.

           “You’re here for Kurogane-san and Fai-san, aren’t you.”

           It was not a question.

           Sakura nodded, saying, “Watanuki-san, since I dreamed it just hours ago, they’re still alive now. I don’t know when it’ll happen exactly, and I also know that I can’t prevent their deaths. So I need you to grant a wish – please make it so that they can meet each other again, be it in the afterlife, their dreams, or another world.”

           “Sakura-chan, as much as I want to give you – no, _them_ – this wish free of charge, I cannot do that, and the price… It will be steep.”

           “I understand.”

           “I must ask for your right eye.”

           Momentarily, the princess was taken aback; she then quickly agreed to the exchange before she could waver again.

           “Of course.”

           The shopkeeper murmured a few choice words, and power began to swirl about the green eye. Eventually, the seeing, functioning eye itself left her body in the form of small sphere, leaving only a cloudy white orb in its place. The princess’s remaining eye widened at this sight, and Watanuki slightly winced in regret.

           “Thank you,” Sakura said, and she once again disappeared through the dimensions.

 

 

            _Kimihiro._

           An oddly distorted voice rang throughout the subconscious of Watanuki Kimihiro. He recognized it as that of his other self, the one who is fated to forever wander the dimensions.

            _Syaoran. You are here for a wish, correct?_

            _Yes,_ the voice said as its speaker faded into vision. _I don’t know how, but I just_ feel _it – Kurogane-san and Fai-san, they’re going to die._

Watanuki sighed. _Yes, they will. And you are here to ensure their happiness._

           Syaoran nodded his assent. _The price doesn’t matter. I wish that, no matter what world they end up reincarnated in, for them to be safe and live a long life._

            _I… I will collect your payment in the future; you shall know of its occurrence._

           Syaoran’s brow creased at this statement from Watanuki. Both he and Yuko almost always had customers pay their price immediately; it was only delayed when the price was hefty and/or complicated to determine. It was like those signs that read “Price on Request” that were placed in front of displays of sumptuous pieces of jewelry.

            _I understand. Thank you, Kimihiro._

           The shopkeeper nodded, and the dream began to slowly dissolve.

            _Stay safe, Syaoran._

_Stay safe, Kimihiro._

 

 

           “Mokona? What is it? A message?”

           About half a month ago, Watanuki had received a “video call” from Kurogane via Mokona. The transcript of their conversation went something like this:

            **Watanuki:** Kurogane-san? Are you in need of anything? If it’s the arm, I Fuuma-san’s not on any jobs at the moment.

          **Kurogane:** No, it’s nothing of that sort. Before you ask, everyone’s fine; we’re in a peaceful world right now.

            **Watanuki:** Then is something else the matter? From your expression, this can’t be a social call.

            **Kurogane:** I have a request, a wish, as you call it.

            **Watanuki:** Alright, what is it?

            **Kurogane:** Syaoran, the mage, and I, you know we get into a lot of fights and dangerous situations. One of these days, I am going to die. When this happens, I want you to make sure that they, the kid and the mage, don’t blame themselves or prevent themselves from moving on. And… although he probably already knows this, tell Fai that I love him, underneath how annoyed I always am with him. I suppose the price’ll be pretty heavy for this.

            **Watanuki:** Your headpiece. That is the price I require.

            **Kurogane:** There won’t be any way for me to bargain will there?

            **Watanuki:** No.

            **Kurogane:** I thought so. Here.

           The object passed through Mokona, and Watanuki added let it join Sakura’s eye.

 

 

           “I’m surprised that this is the first time I’ve been to the shop since the day the four of us met.”

           “Nothing played out the way we expected it to, did it?”

           “No, it didn’t.”

           “I know you’re here for a wish, and I also know that it is an extremely important one. After all, you broke away from Mokona’s dimensional pocket, leading your companions to believe that you had been dropped off elsewhere, and came here instead.”

           “Yes, I did. Regardless of my magic or vampirism, I will die in my travels; they’re simply too dangerous. When I do, regard these words as a will and carry out these actions: No matter what, make sure that Syaoran-kun and Kuro-tan, no Kurogane, leave that world alive and do not dwell on my death. They’ve lost so much already, I want it to be as painless for them as possible, and even then I know that it will be difficult. But, above all, I wish for their happiness.”

           “You know that what you ask for comes with a heavy price.”

           “Yes. It doesn’t matter.”

           “Your blood. I don’t want an exact amount measured in gallons and cups. Draw the blood until you see it in the container and feel as though a much-cherished part of you is sitting to be given away. This will diminish your magic and vampirism; the former will eventually return, but the latter will not, for that blood was never yours.”

           “Of course. I will send it through Mokona soon.”

           “Thank you. Safe travels, Fai-san.”

           “Goodbye, Watanuki-san.”

 

Tertius

 

           Chaos reigned in the alien planet. As soon as the travelers had arrived upon it, they were attacked by its people, humanoid monsters that seemed to have an unrelenting rage against anyone and anything that breached their territory. As strong as they were, the three were simply overwhelmed by the entire village that immediately united in the sole purpose of annihilating them. Fai’s far-from-prime condition led to the other two’s instinctual urge to defend him, despite his protests, leaving them rather vulnerable to attacks. Eventually, Syaoran returned to equal parts defense and offense, while the mage and Kurogane fought in a position similar to back-to-back, allowing for the ninja to injure many and kill several of the planet’s inhabitants, while still being right next to Fai in the case that Kurogane’s defense was needed. The three fought down to the very core of their being, all painfully aware that they were slaughtering an entire people without attempting to reason with them or escape. In the end, be it due to moral clashes, weariness, being caught off guard, the numbers, or a combination of all four, only one remained out of the band of three.

           Kurogane and Fai were both down, bleeding, and either unconscious or about to be; as this was happening, Syaoran had no choice but to inhibit the enemies surrounding him from moving before rushing over to his companions. Thankfully, the humanoids didn’t seem to keep on attacking after it seemed as though their victims were dead, which Syaoran fervently hoped they weren’t. Mokona prompty took them back to the shop, where both Watanuki and Princess Sakura were waiting for them.

           Syaoran sunk down onto the ground, holding up the bodies of those he considered his family, feeling all too acutely the hot blood soaking his clothes.

           “Please, Kimihiro! The reincarnation! _It must be done now!_ ”

           Watanuki summoned his power, which first enveloped the object he held in his hands. In the back of his mind, Syaoran recognized it as a small sculpture, the first gift he had sent to the shop for Watanuki alone, after Yuko’s passing. As the object disappeared, Watanuki’s power seemed to increase and thicken; it snaked towards Syaoran, and Watanuki motioned for him to move away. The energy began to surround Kurogane and Fai as it had the gift, and soon completely shrouded them in pulsing white, thick, smoke. As it dissolved and moved away, the bodies had disappeared, leaving only the two’s souls levitating and humming in the chill air. Watanuki opened a portal, and the orbs slipped inside of it, leaving their dimension and their lives.

 

Quartus

 

           The foreigner woke to find himself lying on the grass in an unfamiliar park, surrounded by picnicking families and playing children. As he picked himself up the ground, he was astounded that no one had noticed him – he was dressed in ragged fantastical robes, possessing bright blue eyes and blonde hair most unnatural to the brown-eyed, black-haired people all about him; he was also covered in blood. He lifted a slender hand and began tracing symbols in the warm air, expecting them to appear in front of him, shimmering white surrounded by a blue-purple aura of sorts, while all he saw was the weekend pastime of the idyllic family. Brow furrowing in confusion, the blonde willed himself to soar into the air so he could observe his surroundings; he simply levitated a few yards off the ground. Now rather concerned, the foreigner’s brain commanded its body’s vampire qualities to show. This went much better than the other tests performed, the only issue was that while he could confirm the presence of all of his enhancements, their strength was nearly a third lower than it had been before.

            _This will diminish your magic and vampirism; the former will eventually return, but the latter will not, for that blood was never yours._

           A teenager’s voice that felt centuries old echoed throughout his mind. _Watanuki-san?_ he thought. _Yes, Watanuki Kimihiro, the Space-Time Witch’s successor to that strange shop._ He now recalled travelling there to have his own wish granted, paying the price of his life’s blood. The mage lay back down on the grass, closed his eyes, and attempted to straighten out and unravel the mess that had become his memories of the past few hours – which could have been days, months, or years.

            _I died._ The realization struck him like an anvil crashing down upon his chest. _But if I’m dead, why am I alive right now, right here? This isn’t the afterlife, if there even is one, I’m sure of it. But to people like Yuko-san, Watanuki-san, and that “Clow Reed,” what does death amount to? A minor problem solved by nothing more than countless reincarnations? A spell stopping time within a newly created dimension? To one who needs only request the assistance of such power, what does death matter to them?_

The surfacing of a desperate scream of who he considered family, words that had pierced through his gravely injured and unconscious self and into his mind, brought to light another great development.

            _I was reincarnated. I remember Syaoran-kun yelling that the process must be done with no delay. I remember him yelling for my life. I remember the travels I had, along with the experiences and relationships they brought about. I remember wishing for my companion’s happiness. I remember a hazy image of my own and Kurogane’s bodies dissipating in a thick white smoke, yielding our souls to be reincarnated into this world._

            _It can’t have been only me to have made a wish; nothing I could have given would be enough. I suppose I must do their sacrifices justice. After all, I haven’t forgotten the events of Acid Tokyo._

           Fai D. Flourite crossed through the park and delved into the surrounding city in search of his counterpart, somewhere in this world.

 

Quintus

 

           “ _Manjuu_! My sword!”

           Years of well-honed instinct demanded that he, when in an unfamiliar and potentially hostile environment, seize any and all forms of defense. In Suwa Kurogane’s case, this meant commanding that strange white creature to puke up Ginryuu – well, the second one. The ninja was upright in a fighting stance, yet lacking the weapon.

           “ _Manjuu_?”

           This was when the pork bun would leap in front of Kurogane’s face, crying out “Mokona!” The insufferable sound never came, nor did the rustling of his companions’ clothes.

           “Dammit, the stupid _shirou manjuu_ must have screwed up and dumped me a few towns away…” he muttered to himself. “I suppose I should go to some hotel and trade odd jobs for a room.”

           Kurogane, looking down at his attire from the past world, began to doubt the validity of his solution. _Damn, I’m covered in blood and might as well be wearing rags… And the places they’re ripped in with the corresponding insane concentrations of blood – it looks like I died or something._

 

 

           Kurogane managed to score himself department-store-sale training pants and gas station tee-shirt, in methods which remain undisclosed; the black boots, he decided, drastically reduced the visibility of the brown, dried blood and were comfortable, so he kept them on. After all, if needed, he could always just wash the blood off. As he walked through the streets of a city he identified as another version of Tokyo, from the identical landmarks in Acid Tokyo, – the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and, bearing a much lighter title, Tokyo Tower – Kurogane was carrying on a rather dense inner monologue.

            _So, I actually_ did _die on that planet with the territorial monsters; weren’t they sort of like those creatures in some manga I was reading before? What was it…_ Shingeki no Kyojin _? Looks like the mage and I were reincarnated into this world by Watanuki-san – I wonder if I’ll ever run into him; for all I know, he could be halfway across the planet._

 _The_ shirou manjuu _isn’t here, so I have no access to any sort of money nor weapon. And we’ve always had to rely on it for communication, – Sakura-chan and the kid were the only ones who shared a language – and I have no way of knowing what language the people here speak. Since it’s a variation of the same city, I can hope that these guys speak the same tongue as Acid Tokyo, I remember someone there saying that the city used to be the capital of Japan; if that Japan’s anything like the one I hail from, I might be able to manage._

           An advertisement flyer, fluttering bright orange in the wind, tacked to a tree caught Kurogane’s eye. With bold, clear _hiragana_ printed on it, along with _kanji_ here and there, Kurogane confirmed that these people spoke Japanese and was deeply relieved. It was promoting a newly opened gym, about a mile from his location, according to the paper, and the people there were promising a month of free membership. _Well, training never hurt anyone; I guess it could do me some good. From the peaceful, modernized places we’ve visited, the newfangled equipment seems pretty damn good._

The gym became a sort of obsession for Kurogane. He would work part-time at a local hotel in exchange for board, and spend the rest of the day working out until the business closed, then jog back to the hotel. Day in and day out, he kept to his routine for about a week, until the staff at the gym offered him a job as a trainer. All too aware of his need for money, Kurogane accepted, intending to maintain the same schedule.

            _After all,_ he thought, _if someone payed a huge price for Fai and me to be reincarnated into a pleasant world like this, I better repay them by building a life for myself instead of waiting around for Syaoran-kun drop by._

 

Sexta

 

            _Pay for only what is given. Give only how much is payed for. Not a coin more nor a favor less. Equal trade. Such is the policy of this strange wish-granting shop._

 

 

           Watanuki was aware of the imbalance in payment and service. The accumulated worth of his, Syaoran, Kurogane, Sakura, and Fai’s sacrifices amounted to a considerable amount over the reincarnation he had conducted. Approximately the equivalent of the time when he and Doumeki were instructed by Yuko to collect the numerous bottles of water for the reservoir underneath Acid Tokyo’s Metropolitan Government Building, he would say.

           “Maru, Moro, occupy any customers that come in.”

           Dressed in a set of Yuko-esque, lavish robes that now seemed uncannily appropriate for the situation, Watanuki walked into the “treasure room,” searching for something that would fit the remaining payment, knowing that it was in there. About two-thirds into the storage room, Watanuki began to spot items that Yuko had collected during his time as assistant; soon, those from the beginning of his career at the shop emerged.

            _The sword and staff_.

           His pace becoming brisker, Watanuki scanned the shelves, looking for the ninja and mage’s initial payments. He found them nestled together, leaning against the drab and slightly cracked wall, tall, graceful silver and blue meshing with stark, simple black and gold. Watanuki lifted them from their place, remarking upon the surprisingly light staff, and had the stale, yet magically enhanced air dust the artifacts off. He commanded said air to them swirl about him, which he used to create a dimensional portal into which he deposited the items.

 

Septimo

 

           Fai, as he explored the city, made a few observations: the said city seemed to be another dimension’s version of Tokyo; the inhabitants of this Tokyo didn’t seem to be able to see him; something about the magic Watanuki had performed to reincarnate him also gave him the ability to understand the native Japanese without Mokona’s assistance. While pondering how he was supposed to find a place to sleep and work, he ran into a strange man who exuded an aura of magic. He was tall, lithe, feminine, and very similar to one of the Government Building people he had met in Acid Tokyo, Kakyou, except for the strong air of sly deviousness that emanated from the man. However, regardless of it, Fai felt that it would be safe for him to not be wary of him.

           Unsurprisingly, he could see Fai, and approached him, adjusting his glasses as he went, giving off an “underground/unconventional doctor” sort of atmosphere.

           “I am Kakei,” he said, “of the Green Drugstore. I take it you are in need of occupation and room?”

           “Yes, I am,” Fai answered, in his typical cheerful voice. Of course, as proved time and time again, that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t extremely confused. “I would be glad to accept your offer.”

           The mage followed Kakei to a subway, in which his suspicions that only those with some degree of power could see him, at least at the moment, were confirmed. _It’ll probably wear off when I look like some normal blonde tourist – did they call them “Europeans” in some other world?_ , Fai thought. The two soon got off of the train and walked about a block to reach a generic-looking corner drugstore, boldly labelled with the logo of a leaf suspiciously similar to that of marijuana and the words “Green Drugstore.” Clearly, as a smoking, sunglassed man clad all in black walked out of the door, the business’s logo wasn’t its only shady factor; already, Fai had identified three and was expecting quite a few more.

           “Another part-timer, Kakei?”

           “Yes. I don’t intend to put him on Kazahaya-kun and Rikou-kun’s work track, though.”

           “Hm.”

           The rest of the conversation seemed to take place through a series of “significant looks and glances,” which were obviously meant to keep its contents unknown to Fai.

           With the conclusion of their “dialogue,” the two men, who seemed to co-manage the shop in one way or another, led Fai through the place, to the back, and upstairs, into a small apartment. Due to the rather narrow staircase, Fai ended up in rather close proximity to the darker man, from who he felt a strong magical aura.

           “Saiga,” Kakei said, “call over the part-timers later, if you would.”

            _So Saiga’s his name,_ Fai realized.

           “Sure. You do whatever you will with him,” Saiga said motioning to Fai. “I’ll be going.”

           As Saiga continued down the hallway, Kakei and Fai moved in the opposite direction for a short while until they stopped in front of two somewhat shabby, once-identical brown doors.

           “That room,” Kakei pointed to the more banged-up of the doors as he said this, “is Kazahaya-kun and Rikuo-kun’s, the two part-timers.”

           Fai nodded, making note to see if the other mentioned employees also had spiritual power like Kakei and Saiga.

           “The other room’s yours; make yourself at home, and there’s clothes on the bed. You start tomorrow, come down at eight, sharp.”

           Kakei then turned and closed the door of “Fai’s” room, leaving the mage to his thoughts.

 

            _“Did you speak to the space-time witch?”_

_“Yuko-san? Oh no, she’s passed now. The new owner is that part-timer, Watanuki-kun.”_

_“Anyway, did you speak to him?”_

_“Yes. He seemed rather pleased to hear that the mage is now unharmed.”_

 

Octava

 

           Fai quickly adjusted to his routine at the drugstore, in which he worked from eight to four, then proceeded to prowl the city. Methodically, he covered the entire “area” the shop was in, then began to take trains out of the few neighborhoods and into the entire prefecture; Fai did this for a good amount of time, typically returning to the shop around ten.  While exploring a slightly more humble area of Shibuya, the upper-middle class, he supposed, Fai stumbled upon a small gym that was advertising free membership for a month.

            _If he were here, I bet Kurogane would be in there, complaining of the equipment’s ease, yet sweating like hell with a red face and returning every day, all the same._

           Fai gave a small sigh at the long wooden rods used for preliminary stretching propped up in a heap against the wall, reminded of Syaoran-kun’s swordfighting sessions with Kurogane. As he continued along his way, Fai caught a glance of a store-front window advertising digital clocks. _9:45 PM_ , he read. Just how long had he been staring into that tiny gym? Picking up the pace, Fai maintained a brisk walk back to the subway station, catching the train right after a pair of schoolgirls around, say, middle to high school age, that had been told off for being late and holding up the subway.

           They were happily chattering along, squished next to Fai on the overcrowded car, poking fun at their classmates and teachers, then moved on to complain about the boredom of classes.

           “I mean, _vocab? Seriously?_ ”

           “Yeah. And who even used words like “hitsuzen?” I guess I would understand if it were some fancy university word, but it’s just some regular old synonym for fate, destiny, whatever.”

           “ _Yeah!”_

            _Hitsuzen,_ Fai thought. _That’s what the space-time witch used to say, “There is no such thing as coincidence. There is only hitsuzen.”_

 

_Could it have been hitsuzen that I passed that gym and thought of Kurogane?_

           Fueled by such wishful thinking, Fai began to almost obsessively visit the up-and-coming workout center, simply watching from the street, never venturing inside. On this particular day, the two young workers that always seemed to be squabbling about something or other came in through the back door, moderately bloody. Kakei took it as a regular occurrence, and coolly scanned the two’s state in a distinctly unsympathetic way.

           “Hmm… I suppose I’ll have to deduct that from your paycheck.”

           “ _What?!”_ the light-haired one exclaimed.

           Kakei shooed him away with a warning glare and the darker one followed; afterwards, Kakei approached Fai and told him to attend to the customers already inside, then close up shop. Thus, the mage ended up around ten to twenty minutes early for his daily vigil in front of Akimoto’s Gym. About an half hour from his arrival, Fai noticed a tall, heavy-set figure crossing the street and approaching the premise, and Fai slightly edged into the shadows, aware that his behavior could be classified as soliciting. The man seemed to be a member of the gym, from the workout bag slung over his shoulder and comfortable way he walked up to the door. With his hand a few inches from the glass door, he paused, sensing something _off_.

            _“Fai?”_ he asked, incredulously.

           The mage in question stepped closer to the man and recognized him immediately, marking his revelation with an extremely loud cry.

           “ _Kurogane!”_

           He then proceeded to bounce around his… victim, perhaps, throwing about highly embarrassing nicknames.

           “Kuro-pon! Kuro-tan! Kuro…”

           “Oi, mage,” Kurogane said, attempting to swat him away. “It’s… It’s nice to see you, I suppose,” he then added, gruffly masking the fact that he was very pleased.

           Seeing that Fai would proceed to jovially dance around, Kurogane made a fruitless attempt to escape into the safe haven of the gym.

           “I have to get to work now; you could, um, stay, I guess.”

           “ _Kuro-tan!”_ Fai complained, making an exaggerated pouting face.

           Sighing, Kurogane relented.

           “Fine, you idiot. I’ll have to ask if I can get off early though.”

           Fai nodded, and Kurogane entered the gym to confer with his boss, who, with a surprisingly low amount of persuading, agreed. The mage proceeded to drag Kurogane around, happiness and relief practically emanating from him in a tangible format.

           “Ooh! Let’s go in there!” he exclaimed, pointing at a small corner shop that advertised authentic vintage goods.

           Once the pair were a few feet from the door, Kurogane slightly frowned.

           “It has a sort of… aura to it. Sort of like the one at the witch’s shop, but much, much weaker. It doesn’t seem hostile though, almost… familiar.”

           Considerably more subdued, Fai walked inside first, Kurogane following close behind. The shop was somewhat small, cramped with items from every time period, from Victorian London to Colonial America to Imperial Japan. As they neared the very back of the shop, the two realized that the magical aura was originating from there.

           “This isn’t possible.”

           On the back wall, partially obscured by a small organizational unit, rested their original payments to Yuko – the Celesian staff and Ginryuu, the one that had been passed down through the Suwa family.

           “Thank you, Watanuki-san.”

           A small pause, in which the two realized that their companions must have wished for their future as well.

           “And Syaoran-kun, Sakura-chan.”

           “You wished for this as well, didn’t you?”

           “I suppose so.”

           “Thank you, Kurogane.”

           “The same to you, Fai.”


End file.
